These are crazy days... (daze?)

PART ONE:

Well, I'm not sure I expected the first EVER comment on my blog to be for the sole purpose of highlighting my lack of explanation of the credit crunch... but ho hum. I guess that I should just be grateful that someone, whoever they may be, actually took the time to read my waffle.

Now, I'm certainly no expert, but I know how it's affecting me and the people around me. The cost of food is going up, the cost of living is going up, the price of rent is going up because mortgage prices are going up, bills are all going up. I'm studying 9-5 Monday-Friday and apparently, in Brighton anyway, Saturday jobs don't exist anymore and to be honest because of the state of the economy it seems that the retail industry, which was pretty much my only hope, don't want to take on any more staff AT ALL, let alone part time ones that they can get next to no hours out of. Therefore... I need to pay rent, but first I need to be approved to take out a rent contract (just coming out of uni and still studying, but not living in a stereotypical 'student house' with a 12-month contract on Mummy or Daddy's money = BAD) and in order to pay rent I need a loan, which I stand next to no chance of getting because of.... TA DA! The muchly-spoken of but never properly explained, Credit Crunch. As I understand it means literally that the banks are crunching down on the amount of credit they give to people, because people didn't pay it back, rendering the country horrifically debt-ridden. And presumably, because they used to make loads of money on interest and investment, because no-one is lending anymore, they aren't. So they're suffering. Big time.

Phew... That help? Sure it's no definitive guide by any stretch of the imagination, but hey... only a serious geek wants to get to grips with all that jargon - all we want to know is how it affects US. Well, that's the way I see it from talking to the people I know. And to be honest, I don't know about you, but it hurts my head to think about it.

In short: I have no money. I cannot get money. This sucks.

PART TWO:

This blog is not to embark on various (and poor) attempts to explain the state of the country's economy, it is to share my thoughts on embarking on a journey into the strange and intimidating world of working in the media...
...and generally just to pontificate upon the various happenings in Brighton-town that may amuse or dismay.

Stay with me, my as yet anonymous readers... it'll get better, I promise.

My first venture outside of the bubble...

When I was growing up, it was most definitely inside an incredibly safe 'bubble'. It was also a very small bubble. I had it pretty kushty I reckon, a roof over my head, a cosy room with no damp or fleas or leaking things (the perils of the student house), food bought and cooked for me every day (with nothing ever left to go mouldy in the fridge), my washing done (without the aid of a launderette and without my white underwear ever being dyed pink), my ironing folded neatly on the end of my bed at the end of each day (pffft, like I have time to bother with ironing anymore)... And all of this came at the cost of doing the washing up and keeping my room tidy. But of course, in the true angst-ridden teen fashion, I hated it. Retrospect is a wonderful gift.

Then came the time for the big U-N-I. After overcoming the initial terror of having to wash my own clothes and pay my own bills, it worked out OK. But pretty soon I found myself swanning around in another, albeit considerably more fluid, bubble: The University campus bubble (made doubly bubble-like by the fact that it was in Brighton aka The Party Capital). I can honestly say for those three years, I couldn't possibly have had it better financially. I was working part-time at a bank for a decent wage feeling awfully professional, and in addition to that I had a hefty chunk of lovely student loan coming in every three months. I could buy whatever I wanted (read: handbags), go wherever I wanted (read: pub), stay up as long as I wanted and, crucially, drink as much as I wanted (read: insane amounts of wine). My only worries were exams and men. And I thought this was the real world... Pfffft, I cringe at the naivety.

But then I stepped out of the student bubble at arguably the worst possible time into a less-than-ideal situation. So, I'm still a student (technically, although I prefer the term 'professional trainee') but I'm also expected to live and, crucially, pay like an adult which is proving almost impossible (though the student discount takes a the edge off a little). There's no help for trainee journalists you see, now if I was training to be a teacher, doctor or lawyer things would be different (I have a feeling the people in the know are trying to stop the ever-increasing ranks of journalists). Plus there is the ever-present and ever-descending dark cloud that is the credit crunch (cue horror-moviesque DER-DER-DEEEEEER). This makes the situation even more helpless, especially as we are fast-approaching outstaying our welcome at the Boyfriend's parents' house... Have you SEEN what's happening with Brighton rent prices?! Shocking.

So, it is with a rather pathetic (or in fact, non-existent) fanfare that I am 'welcomed' (ha ha) into the big scary and professional world of training, work, tax and credit crunching that I decide to share my thoughts online, not necessarily because I expect anyone to read them... maybe I want to help, maybe I want help, or maybe I'm just another blogger/journalist-in-the-making/wannabe columnist who expects my personal outlook on life to be vaguely interesting to others. You decide.